


Master of My Fate, Captain of My Soul

by orphan_account



Category: Kung Fu Panda - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Consensual Violence, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Kung Fu, Past Abuse, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Political Alliances, Politics, Reveal, Secrets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-06-05 19:26:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6718702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU (Shen/OC) With the Battle for Gongmen City in Shen's favor, history took a sharp turn. With Po and the Furious Five's whereabouts unknown for four long years, a young woman goes to represent her home and pay an annual tribute to the Peacock Emperor, unaware of the political scandal, upheaval, and romance that await her upon her arrival.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. but at my back i always hear

**Author's Note:**

> (A/N): What if, instead of losing the Battle for Gongmen City, Shen had won it instead, and the fate of the Dragon Warrior was left unknown? What if the location of the Furious Five was also left up to debate? Going with this thought, I wondered what the state of China would have been left in if Shen had truly become Emperor of China, and this story of political intrigue, scandal, and romance came out of it. Feel free to leave any comments on it! Thanks muchly! :D

 

**Prologue**

From the distance of the shore, one would have said that the flagship, alight in fire, looked like a red lantern that had been moored in the estuary, a solitary good-luck charm that danced with flame.

Wood splintered, putrefying and smoldering from chocolate brown to ivory-white under the duress of the conflagration that consumed the remnants of the devastated ship. The slow, stewing inferno continued in a cyclic fashion, ranging from unassuming, glowing embers before pluming up in passionate crimson-red and orange flame. They crackled and snapped like the fracturing of brittle bones. Water lapped at the hull of the ship, which, though still alight with the unnatural consumption of the blaze, did little to dissuade the fire's progression.

The boat moaned, mast shaking away the sparks that began to form like dewdrops that caramelized the surface of its polished sheen. It rained them down upon the floor of the ship like hail, sizzling as they made contact with the burnished surface of the deck, subtly tarnished from the scrapes of recent, previous battle.

Consciousness came unwillingly to him, with the sluggish precarious quality of resurrection from dreams unsubtle and intangible as gossamer. He shuddered lowly in pain as his bearings returned to him, and raised a hand to his face, to remind himself that he still remained in the world of the living.

Po exhaled slowly, a wavering breath that recalled soreness in his body that could not be placed, and blinked, eyes veiled by blurry vision that recognized indistinct silhouettes and forms, but nothing more. A hand he vaguely recognized as his own pawed for purchase, to see if he was still whole, still alive. Another trembling breath escaped him.

The events of minutes past were lost to him, and he found a tired shallowness in its place; his mind was blank as he tried to remember the moments before oblivion possessed him. Everything hurt, and it was as if he could only process this fact for the time being. His eyes closed in another blink, and his vision improved, shapes becoming tangible and shadows revealing themselves as surroundings.

Before he could comprehend that he was on a boat, the familiar flap of wings interrupted the anarchy of the fire's crackling chaos. He looked, still lethargic in movement, to the elevated cabin of the boat. Smoke and shadows gave way to corporeal form, and this one he recognized with increasing adrenaline and alertness.

Even in the foreboding moments before his demise, the Dragon Warrior couldn't help but admire the serene, tempered grace of the peacock that stood above him. Chalk-white feathers with scarlet death's-eyes stared down at him, ruefully passing judgment as his adversary waited, appraising his prey with obvious disdain.

Po waited for him to speak; there were no clever words that came to his mind as he struggled to find the will to, at the very least, clamber to his knees. Better to confront his destiny bowed rather than lying down.

"You know," Lord Shen said, almost pleasantly as he admired his smoldering, charred handiwork, "I would be lying if I said I expected more from this."

The boat creaked, and without the prompting or reciprocation of conversation, the exiled prince continued, appraising all save his enemy as the lance in his hand glittered brightly, "Especially from the rest of your group, as well. The Furious Five? Beneath me."

He scoffed, as a hairline fracture splintered the mast, lined with bright, pungent sparks, pelting down boiling dewdrops. "Master Ox, Master Crocodile, even the Valley's exalted Shifu?"

Po grunted as he found his bearings, although overcome by vertigo for a stark moment, to balance on his knees, and his hand ambled for the deck's banister, to gain stability. Shen continued, either unaware or indifferent. It mattered little; his was the upper hand, and both, unfortunately, were well-introduced to this fact.

"Not worth my time. But you, Dragon Warrior?" the title on his tongue, from that malignant beak, was a curse rather than honorific. "You disappointed me. I expected at least a half-decent fight from you, as a testimony to the supposed power a master of Kung Fu would possess."

The Dragon Warrior stumbled as a stab of agony shot through his leg like lightning, and he fought to control the exclamation of pain that threatened to escape him, scrabbling to clutch the banister.

"But I suppose legends are inspired from the same supposition as prophecies," Shen conjectured as he gloated, and a cruel sneer crossed his face at this, "Glorified, and altogether, false."

Framed in the boat's inferno, a deathly-white to contrast heady scarlet, he finally looked down to admire Po; in the same fashion one would to admire a prize, and an unsatisfactory one at that. Another moment passed, before there was a shutter of wings, and the flattening of feathers. The flame bowed and hushed as Shen took to the air and landed on the ship's deck, poised and triumphant before Po, who could only watch.

"You know," he said, his tone low and as if he confided in a friend, "I was almost afraid of you. I was utterly convinced that the ministrations of old hags in their delirium were truth, and when I knew you lived, it almost destroyed me. Can you imagine?"

He laughed, short and vindictive, for the folly of the gullible and the fearful, both of which he knew he was assuredly not. But he straightened, posture composed, and prevented himself from tangential rumination, to look to Po once more.

"Nothing to say, Dragon Warrior? No witty retort, casual banter? Have you finally learned your place?"

Iron claws clicked on wood as Shen approached with the dignity of the victorious, and gave pause as he saw the panda open his mouth to speak. Contemptuous pity allowed him to let Po address him.

"This…this isn't the end." Po proclaimed in a rasp of breath shallow, pitiful in both resolve and volume. It was obvious how greatly it pained the panda to even speak. "It's not—not over yet."

"Oh, you're quite right about that," Shen agreed, nodding emphatically, "After all, my empire has yet to begin."

His gaze returned to the lance he held, and he admired the ravenous fire that glimmered on its immaculate surface, before confronting his own reflection. Then, as it slanted, to the figure that awaited his verdict.

"Though," Shen said, distraction passed as he turned to regard his enemy, "I cannot guarantee that you'll live to see it."

The blade gleamed as he poised to attack, in true fashion of a lethal bird of prey. "Goodbye, panda."

There was a rush of air as Shen closed the distance; Po closed his eyes and thought of his father.

* * *

 

**Four Years Later**

The dirt path to Gongmen City was well-taken, paved with the imposition of thousands of feet that had journeyed the same route, and lined with the familiar tracks of carriage wheels that soldered through the trail. The grass that dared to grow out from the nature that surrounded the lane was trampled and flattened to a modest bow, implying the great importance that Gongmen City had imposed upon China in her abundance.

It was also noteworthy to mention that on the road, one could see that there were exponentially more footprints that approached the city, rather than departed from it. To attribute such a reason to this observation, however, would only result in a hush of polite conversation, averted gazes, and a disinclination to affiliate with the person who had suggested the remark in the first place. It was simply not a thing that was spoken of. It was enough to say that the road was well-used, and conclude any conversation at that.

It was this path that two travelers assumed in the leisure of an autumn afternoon, underneath a flawless blue sky complemented by drifting clouds clustered together in creamy, cotton-white uniformity. The two companions walked close to avoid being caught in the steady traffic of other travelers; one paced with a slight limp, the other deigned to slither on the ground.

"You would think," the walking traveler, a fox with rich orange fur and sharp brown eyes, suggested to her friend in a lofty tone, "That the illustrious Lord Shen would assume it prudent to pave the road to his city."

Her gaze passed down to the dirt road that her shoes, dusted with the rich red silt that covered the road, and then back to the serpent that slithered beside her, while she limped. "Or is it, perhaps, too much effort on his part to consider any provincial area outside of his capital?"

"That kind of talk inside the city would get you sent to the prison for two weeks, Xiu." The serpent, a pale brown speckled with gold spots, replied in a not-quite disapproving, nor approving tone; as if she was struggling for better judgment, but could not acquiesce to advocate for Gongmen City's ruler either.

"But we're not in the city yet, are we, Ming?" she inquired, abandoning her pretention as her eyes danced with mischief that needed to be stunted upon entrance to Gongmen. "With you and the road as my only witnesses, I'm afraid I'm just allowed to say whatever's on my mind."

"Not at the Annual Council, you won't." Ming replied, amber eyes watching her friend carefully, as said friend grinned with abandon at her 'clever' retort, greeting a good afternoon to a fellow passerby. "You're not just representing yourself there, you're representing all of Jīnshǔ Fēng."

"Which I do so proudly, of course." Xiu replied with an arch of her brow as she looked down to her reptilian companion, who muttered something subtle and most likely insulting under her breath, belly hugging the ground as she continued to slither.

"I get the feeling you don't think I'm going to be a good ambassador," the fox commented amiably, hitching the pack on her back up a notch; the large, cumbersome bag contained all that they would need for the next few months in Gongmen. The rest had arrived by carriage in the city a week ago, and patiently awaited their arrival.

"No," Ming said, opting to word her sentence carefully as she avoided the tread of someone's shoe, "I'm just worried that you won't be an experienced enough ambassador. Philosophers say there's a difference between intelligence and wisdom for a reason, you know. And the representatives that will be there have both."

"I'm also getting the vaguest feeling I've been insulted." Xiu genially returned, and persisted before her companion could suggest another trend of dialogue. "But the Annual Council would be a good place to get that experience you're talking about, wouldn't it?"

"I would have preferred a tamer environment before thrusting you into the manipulation of Gongmen Court," she deferred to the logic in Xiu's statement, but defended her own position as well. They both nodded in greeting to an elderly goat that smiled as she passed.

"Then I suppose it's a good thing you've come with me then, isn't it?" Xiu offered her an encouraging smile which was mildly reciprocated. She turned away from her conversation to apprise the remainder of the road left, and noted with ample dissatisfaction that the city only laid three curves over the long, sloping hills they tread. "Besides, it's not like I'm going to be face-to-face with our distinguished Lord Shen at any point."

"Don't tempt fate," Ming absentmindedly replied, returning her attention moreso to her path of distance than chatter. Xiu chuckled in dubious fashion at the thought, and shook her head.

"You worry too much, older sister."

"No, I worry the right amount."

In the distance, Gongmen City, architecturally impressive and technologically advanced, though still a gilded cage in everything but name, waited.


	2. Chapter 1: miles to go before i sleep

**Chapter 1: Miles To Go Before I Sleep  
**

The remainder of their journey to Gongmen City was completed within a matter of minutes; the two continued to speak freely while they were still able. But the path, dusty and well-worn, began to peter out from distinct, fertile red soil to burnished and immaculate tiled white stone.

A few meters away were the gates to the front entrance of the city; trailing like a kite's tail was a line of people awaiting entrance determined by two (neither friendly nor antagonistic) wolves. For security-related reasons, many more lurked in the background of this periphery; they could be noticed in the darkness they impatiently reclined in, weapons glinting and knuckles cracking with anticipation. This unsubtle sight upon approaching the gates quickly dissuaded any from provoking instigation of disturbing the peace.

Before falling into line with the queue, Xiu grumbled a weary "Finally" as they transitioned ground, her gait favoring her left leg. She took another step before kneeling into a crouch and tenderly massaged the flesh of her kneecap, and a subdued moan of pain amalgamated with relief escaped her.

Ming slithered around her with a muted whisper of reptilian scales on cobblestone.

"How's it feel?" she inquired, appraising her companion's leg; Xiu began to pull up the practical brown cloth of her left pant leg.

"As good as it can be," was the premeditated response. Below the rich red-brown fur of Xiu's knee was not the expected rest of her leg, but the substitution of it by a metallic prosthetic.

Wrought in iron, it was obvious the lower half of her leg was designed to emulate the shape of it as closely as meticulous handicraft could permit. It sloped with the shape of a calf and assumed a sheer decline to imitate the rigidity of a shin, before tapering in substitution of an ankle. Quiet and inconspicuous in style while obviously designed for simplicity and reliable implementation, the only embellishment was a wax signature that bore Xiu's name, above the ankle.

"I just need time to get used to it, is all." Xiu added as she finished a rudimentary maintenance check of the appendage.

"You should've used the old one you made, the copper one." Ming admonished her, but knew that suggesting the idea would have been like begging the Gongmen Gates to open on their own.

"Just give me a few days, Ming," she reassured her companion with a grin as she began to roll down her pant leg. "I'll be dancing with this one before you know it."

"That's what you always say," Ming scoffed quietly, good humor returning to her face, but spared a characteristic eye-roll customary in her presence. "Do you have the entry papers on you?"

With the inauguration of the new ruler of Gongmen City, safety measures had been tightened and securities undertook a strangling, restrictive grip. The gates to the city, which were once open to local and faraway passerby, now required paperwork to determine one's qualification to enter. The bureaucracy had modernized and sapped the city of all welcoming character on the exterior, and the interior could attest to a similar tale.

"Now would I be a good representative if I didn't?" came Xiu's reply as she cheerfully produced a scroll from the side pouch of her pants, offering it to Ming's view as the serpent glided towards the procession.

"Well," Ming requited as Xiu followed, "if you didn't have it, we'd most likely have to put on that song and dance you were talking about."

They both snickered quietly and filed into the ever-continuing line that continued to track from bone-white marble to rich auburn soil.

"Ming?" Xiu inquired amiably, albeit discreetly, as she assessed the imposing gates that towered before them, crossing one arm over the other.

"Whatever is it?" came the reply from near her right sandal.

"Did you ever come to the city… _before?"_

She didn't articulate the unspoken part of the question; to continue it was unnecessary. Both knew to what she referred, and Ming opted for a moment of silence to take a cursory note of the surrounding throng. Everyone else appeared to be either preoccupied with recovering their passports or was distracted by current conversation.

"Once; when Emperor Kaili and Empress Mei Hua still ruled here. But that was a long time ago, when I was your age."

"Ming, you're only seven years older than me."

"Twenty-five marks the status of an old maid." Came the serpent's almost-melodramatic counter; Xiu could practically feel the eye roll that accompanied it, though she stifled the scoff that threatened release.

"But such a pretty old maid, hmm?" Xiu substituted her laughter for comprehensible speech. "And such a _smart_ one too."

"Ah, yes; the suitors will certainly flock to me for my _massive_ intellect, ah, of course." the biting, good-natured sarcasm in the declaration was unsubtle, and Xiu shifted the weight of her right leg to compensate for the dull, monotonous pain in her left.

"There are worse things than being able to keep witty conversation with someone."

"Obviously, it's the only thing _some_ people I'm acquainted with know how to do."

"A quality I never fail to remind you of," Xiu inaudibly murmured as she returned her attention from their repartee, and back up to the overbearing volume of the walls that surrounded Gongmen. "Ming?"

"Yes?" came the near-weary inquiry; they hadn't even entered the city, yet her reptilian companion hadn't failed to acquire a headache.

"Were the gates always there?"

There was another moment of unsteady silence, one which they both deigned to continue to admire and develop a subtle contempt for the restraining qualities the gates represented.

"Yes," came the solemn answer, following another moment's recess, "but they were always open."

* * *

"They're _what?"_ Shen hissed, turning his head sharply and setting an imperious, incendiary stare on the messenger that meekly acquiesced to terrified docility. Said messenger's gaze darted, quickly wavering between the incensed fury of Gongmen City's ruler and the door, a few feet away and the only escape available (save the tenth-floor window). Two of those alternatives still seemed preferable to the one, as inescapable as it was.

Before him, Emperor Shen waited, the silence growing more immeasurably damning with each moment he chose to remain inarticulately terrified. On an iron-wrought throne's staircase, flanking behind the emperor and poised in old age, an aged ram consulted bones and did not acknowledge either.

The waterfowl messenger swallowed thickly, realizing that he would find no relief from the situation, and instead chose to address the blatant opulence of the room rather than an actual person.

"The representatives of the Jīnsè de Tiányě and Hǎi'àn Chéng regions regret to inform you that—their trip is delayed and—"—the messenger allowed another moment to look impressively mortified as Shen's eyes widened upon registering the words for a second time—"—and regret to inform you that they will be unable to arrive for another…three or four weeks?"

Death's-eyes judged him, imprinted on ivory feathers that left pigmented impression in the air where they were a moment before, whispering through the silence with a quality analogous to the hushed slice of the executioner's blade. The messenger struggled not to tremble and prayed to be quickly dismissed from the room in one piece.

"So," Shen said, and his voice assumed an unexpectedly composed, sleek quality that only prompted more alarm than if he had resumed lividity to the situation, "you've come to tell me that the delegates to four of my most economically significant cities, _Gongmen's_ economically significant cities, have postponed their arrival."

"Well, I—" the messenger tried to correct Shen's manipulation of his words, but was silenced by an unexpected, reprimanding look from the soothsayer before she returned to her ministrations. The messenger returned his attention to the emperor that descended the steps.

"And, due to this delay in schedule from my _loyal subjects,"_ the tone in his voice seemed to waver dangerously between civility and ferocity, "this also spells terrible news for the Annual Tributary. Do you know what _that_ means?"

After realizing he was being addressed, the waterfowl blinked dumbly before searching for a reply. "I—I'm not entirely sure, Emperor Shen."

"Well, allow me to elaborate for you." The almost-amiable quality returned to his voice, and he approached the distance between he and his conversational companion. "It means that this year's Tributary will have to _also_ be postponed until they arrive. And what do you think happens then?"

Realizing he was in dangerously close proximity to Shen, the messenger wondered if he should answer the question or opt for pretending to not be able to comprehend Chinese anymore.

"I don't know, Emperor Shen."

"It means that we will have to wait, and that those who could not regain their decrepit footing to impose a little _punctuality_ into their schedule, will have to face the consequences of their actions."

China's emperor paused for want of stillness, and offered a compassionless smile to the messenger, who decided he would have preferred to be confronted with rage. Shen's voice dipped to a low, stiff tone, and the messenger could only help but listen.

"And let it be known that the emperor they pay tribute to every year is not one that easily forgives. Nor easily forgets."

Allowing his intentions to be fully comprehended, Shen regained cool formality and detachment as he instructed the messenger, who released a breath that he was not aware he contained. "Deliver _that_ message to the representatives, and inform them that I _eagerly_ await their arrival."

"Of course," the waterfowl bowed quickly and excused himself with an eager haste through the open door, which was shut by the guards stationed outside following his quick exodus.

Inside the throne room, silence reigned supreme. It was fraught with a thick tension that Shen augmented by assuming a dangerous pacing accentuated by the _click-click_ of iron claws on polished floor.

"It would not be so difficult if you had not made it so difficult _for_ them, Lord Shen." The Soothsayer interjected as she contemplated the future in the bones of long-past.

"Perhaps it would be made easier if I were to merely allow them to remain in their lands, yes? Allow them to consider revolution or insurrection unchecked, or to hoard the treasures that their regions provide us?" Shen retorted, patience quickly wearing thin in familiar, contemptuous company. "And when Gongmen City is to be shambles from rebellion, who shall I blame for the gamble suggested to me? The boon I decided to take, and lost?"

"Your fear will consume you, should you continue down this road." The Soothsayer simply returned.

"Is that what your weary, cracked bones have told you?" Shen scoffed scornfully. "The same ones that foretold my demise and were found mistaken in every alternative offered?"

When she did not speak, continuing to analyze the alignment of the fates, he seized the opportunity.

"Ah, yes," he continued, malicious grin only growing, "I'm sure the validity of your predictions were appreciated by the Furious Five and their incapable master. When they were forced to scatter into the night like the cowards they were, they must have _truly_ valued your counsel."

He circled closer, brightening as he spoke, master of his verbal ministrations and in control of their exchange. "And the masters of their bygone art, that rot in prison as we speak, what say they to your folly, oh _exalted_ soothsayer? Have they expressed gratitude for it yet?"

When no answer offered respite in her favor, he concluded his prolonged declaration, voice barely above a whisper.

"And what, do you think, _Po_ would say in defense for you?"

She was inexplicably, implacably tranquil as she spoke. "The future is not so easily divined. It can be manipulated into other forms, other ways. Though it may not happen now, it _will_ occur in some other way, and fulfill itself eventually."

Shen's countenance transformed from amusement to disbelief, but she continued, holding up a bone to the light's appraisal before she turned her gaze, equally imperious, to him.

"And have I not fulfilled every other prophecy that I have divined for you? Lord Shen, the world and the paths that we take are more fluid than you presume."

"If what you want is to be humored," Shen said, drawing closer as the sneer he failed to disguise as interest eroded his composure, "Then very well. I shall humor you."

With an air of overbearing gravitas, he gestured grandly to her porcelain bowl of bones. "What can you divine for my future, dearest _zàixià?"_

"Change, my Lord Shen," she uttered as she regarded him without pause to consult her bones. "And in more ways than you would expect."

"How enigmatic," he replied drolly, turning away from her as he descended down the stairs again, resuming the menacing _click-click_ of metal talons _._ "Am I to receive elaboration or to be kept in the dark with your ambiguous administration?"

"There is more than one way to pluck a bird of its feathers, Lord Shen." She returned, hesitating before concluding her assertion. "There are ways that are more difficult; and means unexpectedly easy when they are offered to us. In the end, it will be up to you to decide what path you will take."

"Are you saying that _I_ will be "plucked of my feathers," so to speak? How foreboding," Shen chuckled, a touch humorlessly, as he crossed the room's distance to admire the view of his city from the window. "I shall have to remain on guard at all times."

"No, you won't." she murmured softly to herself as she returned her attention to the bones.


	3. Chapter 2: luminary across the sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello, hello! It's been quite a while, hasn't it? But for the people who return to my humble story, go ahead and read on; for those who are new: enjoy, enjoy! Onward we go!
> 
> Also, for the person who messaged me about who my OCs sound like: I always imagined Xiu voiced by Ziyi Zhang, and Ming to be voiced by none other than Ming Na-Wen. Additionally, another OC that appears in this chapter, I imagine being voiced by Dante Basco. Continuing forward!

**Chapter 3**

_luminary against the sky_

The Tower of Prosperity and Righteousness, in identical fashion to its predecessor that had toppled in a cacophony of shattered, splintered wood and ravenous, voracious flame five years past, remained in the center of Gongmen City. Following the pageantry of their new ruler's inauguration, it had been the first task in an enigmatic agenda instigated in The Court of the Peacock. While many could slander the opulence of the Court in derogatory, whispered gossip, the one virtue that many were grudgingly forced to extol was that of the tower itself.

It was a testament to the detached yet eminent prominence Shen had imposed upon China. An architecturally breathtaking pagoda, each tier was gilded in iron, and its individual eaves plated in bronze. The building itself was layered in a deep, lustrous scarlet mortar, bricked in stolidity and unyielding to the elements. As it ascended to the heavens, looming over the surrounding city, it was impossible to miss the landmark that noted the Court of the Peacock's palace. Even less feasible was to resist the overpowering allure that it drew in all of its ambiguity.

* * *

The gates to Gongmen City closed behind Xiu and Ming with a solemn, final _thud;_ there was a parameter of the number of citizens allowed to enter the city every day and they were lucky enough to be included at the tail-end of it. Representatives or not, had they prolonged their arrival by a moment, they would have had to sleep in other accommodations than a palace (namely, the ground and all its fine comforts).

Inside, the city was bustling with life, a hubbub of commotion and raucous chatter. From across streets, vendors shouted the necessity of their wares while shoppers appraised them with casual glances as they instigated normal routine. Parents imperiously tugged their children along the crowded avenues, ushering them to other roads. Stray kids darted through the push and pull of the masses, shrieking with laughter at new discoveries. But the only thing that made anyone give pause, however, was to admire the side-of-the-road attractions that birthed themselves from unassuming alleys.

"I'm surprised that there are people still smiling in here. You'd think that the emperor would have put a tax on happiness too." Xiu cheerily observed. As they walked on the smooth cobblestone path, her metal foot made a small _thunk_ with each step she took. Thankfully, to avoid the monotonous irritation it might have caused, the sole of her slipper muted it.

"Xiu, you're toeing a fine line." Ming muttered; her friend leaned down and offered a hand down to her. The serpent acquiesced, and slithered up to curl around her arm, avoiding the trample of feet that surrounded her on the ground. Xiu tried her best not to shiver at the sensation of reptilian scales as Ming slid around her shoulders to find a better perch.

"Good thing I've got at least one good foot to carry us then." She returned, and after her friend and pack were situated, she continued to walk, keeping a level gaze on the tower that awaited them.

Xiu posed her observation as she moved through the fluctuating throng, avoiding a hole in the cobblestones. "It's a lot prettier than I expected, I'll give Shen that."

" _Emperor_ Shen," Ming querulously corrected her, sweeping an analytic gaze over the streets they passed, as though she tried to soak in the brief memories. "But he's also tightened security too. Look, there are wolves everywhere."

Xiu looked and saw it was true; for every eight citizens there seemed to be a wolf that lurked in the shadows and watched with casual, leering scrutiny. The general public seemed acclimated to them, though; many barely spared them a backwards glance and fewer seemed to realize they were there.

"I doubt the previous rule needed _them."_ Xiu added noncommittally as she noted their numbers while she walked. "I wonder what the new emperor has to worry about."

As she continued to walk, her face became more composed and revealed less and less of any inner turmoil. Her expression drew upon passive adamancy, as if the person that she had been moments previous was smoothed out with a quick swipe of poised control, and any trace of Xiu's previous joviality disappeared without a trace. Ming watched the transformation guardedly before turning her head to appraise the street once more.

"But," Xiu began, "New times call for new measures. If the emperor feels the need to enforce more power, then there must be an excellent reason for it. Surely our illustrious emperor has justification for all he deigns to do in improving our nation."

Xiu smiled. "Besides, he has made this capital the pride and joy of such a strong, industrial nation. China has not seen its superior before, and will surely not for centuries after his... _accomplished_ rule."

"How eloquently worded, _Fūrén_ _Xiu._ Who educated you to communicate with such loquacious diction? Surely an excellent teacher." Ming replied with a touch of sarcastic wryness to her words.

"All in the hopes that it butters up the emperor, Ming. Nothing more." Xiu sighed as a relieved smile returned to her face; the composed look left her expression and gave way to a weary patience. Practicing the negotiative docility of the court would be a difficult, yet necessary trait she could not go without.

"Then lead on, _Fūrén._ Our palace awaits." Ming smiled. "We don't have much time before the doors close."

* * *

"You'll be residing here for the remainder of your stay," the Wolf dictated to them as they followed his pressing tread down the hall of their allotted housing complex.

They had been assigned to an entire _sìhéyuàn_ ; a quadrangled courtyard house that enclosed an elegantly arranged landscape garden. Adjacent and yet partially isolated from the main palace, as many of the other houses were, it was one of the more sophisticatedly opulent ones. Moreso, it was quite obvious it was for representatives that Shen believed were entitled better quality, either through their loyal obesience or their region's importance.

The two of them had followed their guide through lesser accommodations that were shared by multiple representatives, in less opportune locations than the ones that had been provided. Whether they had been issued this housing through negligence or sheer derision for their county's ranking, neither of them could discern. For the moment, it was simply not their affair.

Ming skated over the textured surface of the outdoor hallway's rug, trying her best to mask her irritation as she slithered with Xiu's pace. She was making conversation with their escort. While not impatient, he didn't seem totally receptive to the inquiry.

"—No one is allowed to leave the palace after nine unless granted special permission by the head of the guard or Emperor Shen himself; there's no mail correspondence after six, and you guys are not to leave the city under any circumstances. You get the gist." he ticked off the necessities on his itinerary and turned his head around towards the two of them, admiring with almost sympathetic bemusement at the odd couple that represented Jīnshǔ Fēng.

"Anything else we oughta remember?" Xiu asked; the wolf gave her an odd sidelong glance from the lack of proper vernacular that he typically would have associated with a regional representative. She realized her error belatedly and fought the urge to wince as she felt the frigidity of Ming's glare aimed at her back.

"There are three meals served for you guys; breakfast, lunch, and dinner. You're welcome to go to them, or find it somewhere else. Dinner's in about an hour right now, so you can settle in here and go on down if you want later." he replied with a gruff cadence that denoted how often necessity made him repeat it. He rounded a second corner of a hallway, and began to slow in his walk.

"And will His Imperial Majesty be attending the dinner?" Xiu plied delicately, remembering to assume proper etiquette. She found no response save an indifferent shrug.

"Unless my master instructs me to do something, what he does is none of my business." he concluded that line of conversation, and stopped before a sliding tatami door, prompting their pause as well.

"These are the bedrooms of your building. If you have any more questions, there should be people within the main palace that can help you." he inclined his head in a simple bow, which was returned by the two of them.

"Can we have your name, honorable guard?" Ming asked politely, holding a civil gaze with him. He stared levelly at her, allowing the two of them the moment to admire how thoroughly untouched he was; there was a freshness to his appearance that polarized the authoritative air he tried to perpetuate. He was still only a rookie, but taking large strides to further close the gap.

"Zhou Jiahao," he replied, and bowed once more, looking up to meet eyes with Xiu before he turned away to depart.

The room inside was elegantly simple. There were two beds on opposing sides of the room, with brown-lacquered night-side dressers beside each, as well as the luggage they sent ahead of them.

"Well, at least _that_ didn't get lost in passage." Xiu dryly commented as she crossed the distance of the room. She clambered onto her bed with awkward grace, hefting her left leg up first (it sunk in the mattress like an anchor in water), and reached to drag her baggage over the surface of the ornate sisal rug. She unhooked the loop to the pack and began to rummage through it, making careful inventory to ensure that nothing inside had been appropriated during its transfer.

"Ming, are you going to the dinner tonight?" She asked casually, producing a thin, glossy-black case from the cavernous maw of her bag. It was placed it on top of her metal leg, balanced momentarily.

"No, not tonight. I'd like time to unpack, and I need to send out a letter before the curfew." Ming replied primly, coiled upon the starched-white sheets of her own bed. "Are you planning to?"

"No," Xiu said, fighting the inclination to smile, "I know I'll talk with the dignitaries of China eventually, but I refuse to do it until tomorrow."

"What about tonight?" Ming arched a ridge of reptilian scales, offering her a dubious stare.

"For tonight, I'll surplus my wit and charm for His Majesty, but the socialites of Gōngmen and their drama can stay away from me. Heaven forbid I start political scandal before all the delegates are here."

She turned, easing her left leg over the edge of her mattress (it set on the ground with a heady _thunk)_ , and pushed herself up to stand.

"Keep dressing like that," Ming reprimanded her warningly, "and you just might."

Xiu turned her gaze from her companion down to the clothes she wore; a simple wardrobe that would be indistinguishable from the street passerby they had earlier encountered.

"What about it?"

"At the very least, don a _qipao_ jacket. It may suit a martial arts master to wear such practical clothes, but not a representative of Jīnshǔ Fēng. With your flute case and outfit, the wolves may start tossing you coins."

Xiu fought the urge to laugh. "Alright, if the Court of the Peacock demands I look properly civilized, then so be it."

"And all of China thanks you for it." Ming sarcastically replied, returning her attention to her baggage.

* * *

"Double the guards? What for?" The Wolf Captain demanded, barely able to restrain his indignation.

"I'm glad I don't need to repeat myself." Shen replied neutrally as they traveled the length of the occupied training grounds. Their dialogue was complemented by the swing of steel upon steel, as soldiers that went through the repetitive training regimens, managing the strict yet elaborate routines they had been instructed in. Shen and his captain paid them little heed; it was a common sight to behold on any regular day, and they continued to walk.

"But," Shen continued calmly, appraising the lotus blossom trees that segmented the enclosure, "I was not aware that I needed to explain myself."

The Emperor of China turned his head to look at his inferior, and The Wolf Captain hesitated, breath caught in his throat as he backpedaled. He bowed his head humbly as they continued their rounds, lowering his voice to a humble pitch; he did not retreat his gaze from his superior.

"Well, Lord Shen, it's only that we've already got a large amount of guards at the city and palace already, isn't that already a decent amount to manage Gongmen for now? And—and besides, where will we get them from?" He attempted, as tactfully as he could.

"Captain Jiang." Shen interrupted him, and Captain Jiang could do nothing but be muted audience to his lord.

"If you truly wish the word 'decent' to describe the men under your command at such a sensitive time in your country's capital, then perhaps I have placed my trust in the wrong men." Shen maintained calm reposition as he spoke, but the gaze he held with his captain spoke untold volumes. "And that is a mistake which can be easily remedied."

"Of course, Lord Shen. Forgive me for—speaking out of turn." Captain Jiang quickly rectified his error. Shen remained silent, allowing the musicality of the practiced battles surrounding them to continue in their stead. It was the closest implication Jiang could get to fathoming he had narrowly escaped something far worse than simple reprimanding.

Their discussion was suspended as a young wolf approached. He ran from afar, slowed to a more respectful speed as he neared, and halted in a bow as he came within conversational distance.

"Your Majesty; Captain Jiang." the wolf spoke, deferential to a fault.

"At ease, Cadet Zhou. What do you have to report?" Jiang asked; Zhou Jiahao assumed ramrod posture and stared ahead at his two superiors without seeing.

"The representatives for Jīnshǔ Fēng, Báishùgǔ, and Yú Mùshān have all arrived. They've all been escorted to their quarters, and have been made aware of the rules." he intoned woodenly over the clamor behind them, assuming perfect composure.

"Very good. Back to your post." Captain Jiang approved, which the wolf did so, withdrawing without another word.

His reprieve had passed, as had the moment. Jiang returned his attention back to Shen, who sustained serene passivity to the situation, and deigned to intervene upon the silence.

"You know your orders, Captain Jiang." he turned and contributed without hesitation, "As well as the consequences for insubordination."

He left Captain Jiang alone in the courtyard, surrounded by his men and an unwavering promise.

* * *

The Tower did not fail to impress. Externally beautiful, it was more magnificent within. The walls were so flawlessly burnished, one could admire their own reflection in its smooth russet sheen. Upon these, countless tapestries extended from towering distances of ceiling and floor, depicting historical victories, introspective landscape, and supernatural occurrence.

Each hallway had several intervals of scarlet columns which heralded massive pairs of doors upon which a single character was written, evenly distributed upon each door. Xiu admired the gold detail that had been superimposed onto each symbol before continuing on to appreciate the next.

She walked, tapping an uneven rhythm with her knuckles into the surface of her black case, and rounded another corner. The evening was visible through an iron-wrought grill design, and was already in its august progression; a full-bodied yellow moon was beginning to appear over the horizon of an empty concrete courtyard.

It was a view that she would have appreciated longer, had she not realized that the hallway that she had stepped into was occupied by someone else; she nearly bumped into them while she was lost in the beauty of the landscape before her.

A wizened goat consulted bones in the bottom of a worn, cracked clay bowl, immersed in her work; she spared a moment's notice to see Xiu maneuver around her to avoid collision.

"Sorry, grandmother." Xiu apologized, and would have continued on her way, had she not been called back.

"Am I your grandmother, or the one of your father's?" the old goat inquired. But what made Xiu hesitate was that the question was not proposed in the language of the Gongmen Court, but the all-too-familiar dialect of her home.

Xiu paused, looking back to the goat that smiled patiently upon being discovered, and looked up to the fox with an almost maternal air.

"You speak the village dialect?" Xiu asked in their mutual language, as she rounded back and cautiously approached. "I didn't think anyone inside Gongmen would."

"The ears hear what the eyes refuse to see. Do not judge a book by its cover, _Fūrén;_ prejudice will not suit you wisely here in the Court of the Peacock." came the sage reply.

"So I've been told." Xiu good-naturedly grumbled as she sat across from the old goat, who patiently waited as she adjusted her prosthetic in order to be comfortable. "Is that what your bones say, grandmother? Or do they predict more auspicious fortunes ahead?"

The old goat's eyes seemed to twinkle as she spoke. "You know of their powers?"

"Jīnshǔ Fēng is superstitious, even if we keep up with the rest of China." Xiu cheekily grinned. "Humility to greater powers than us is what makes us mortal, right?"

"It is a lesson many, including yourself, still have to learn." the old goat somberly replied, though she still smiled, which meant that Xiu could do so as well. It almost seemed as if she referred to more than her current companion, but Xiu didn't pry.

"Did the bones let you know that too, grandmother? I'm afraid all of it is true." she chuckled, but suppressed it to become more sincere, and inquire further. "What else do they say?"

"Everything; yet time permits me little to see, and less to tell." She paused. "And they say that the case you hold does not hold any instruments, that much is certain."

Xiu drew back in surprise but scoffed out a quick laugh, palming the sleek glazed surface of her case. She popped open the latch with a clock of her thumb to reveal a match and a smoking pipe encased within the velvet folds, and shared a conspiratorial smile with her conversational companion.

"Then the gods are much more clever than I am. At the very least, they've helped me fool Ming for the past two years." she craned her neck to look into the bowl, and stared uncomprehending at the bones. "Tell me what else they say, grandmother."

"They offer little more for today; save good bearings regarding your health—"—at this, the twinkle returned to her eyes once more—"—and a place where, if one desired, to indulge in well-hidden habits with a few minutes of peace."

Xiu gave a slow smile. "Grandmother, I think your prediction'll be spot on."

* * *

The Imperial Gardens did not pale in comparison to the interior of the palace; if anything, they surpassed it. There was unfathomable dedication that had gone into the maintenance of the violet lotus blooms that bowed with the whisper of breeze that ghosted by; an unspeakable hallowed quality settled over the trees that craned to the moon, branches even and smooth in their curve. Lanterns, set in expert locations, suffused the scenery with a soft glow that made the midsummer night tranquil in the repose of night.

The leaves rustled as she passed by, pressing her black case to the full of her _qipao's_ chest, in case anyone asked for a musical demonstration that she was not prepared to partake in. The stone path that she traveled on helped create an almost rhythmic quality to her walk as she explored, with a muted pat- _thunk_ as she went, and continued to guide her.

The place that the old goat had told her of was not far from the courtyard she had spotted through the window. Over a bridge that lay on top of a babbling brook, it was a spot that overlooked a large, rectangular pond where distinctively bright fish swam. Better yet, the area was partially encircled by a thicket of bamboo, which meant that Xiu could hide either herself or the pipe if need be. But best of all, it offered a view of the star-studded sky, outshone by the full moon that remained its centerpiece.

There was a bench by the pond's cobblestone border, where Xiu sat and got to work. The latch popped open while she rolled up her pantleg to strike the match with practiced ease against her prosthetic leg. She watched the small flame dance with ravenous hunger, darkening the match-head, before applying it to the bowl of the pipe. Another second inched by before she sighed quietly and contentedly, exhaling a slow stream of smoke. The used match went back into the folds of her case, which closed with a _snap_ ; Xiu leaned back to revel in the privilege of the night.

Calm strength, opposed by subdued fear, battled within her. Tomorrow, she would have to encounter the lies and deception of the Gongmen Court to be able to maintain her home's status in the eyes of the emperor. With the rise of the new sun, there would be no more leeway for mistakes; there could be no more sarcastic humor or foolish, untimely jokes. Anything and everything could be twisted or manipulated to suit the needs of the other, in the Court of the Peacock. Xiu wasn't sure if she was ready for it. But she'd have to be tomorrow.

Xiu sighed; a plume of smoke evaporated into the night air. At the very least, she knew that she had Ming with her as an advisor. She thanked the gods that she had been given, at the very least, a capable person to help her with such a task, and a good friend that she could trust to do so.

If anything, though, the foreboding approach of the morning had extinguished the desire to continue smoking. She lowered the pipe from her lips and sat up, straightening the posture to her back, before waving the fumes away from the mouth of her pipe. The embers faded to darkness, and she smothered the ashes with her fingers for good measure before looking up, to try to discern her pathway back by lantern light.

She paused, hesitant in the throes of recognition, and then froze, in the mute shock of comprehension. There could be no mistaking the figure that ascended the slope of the bridge; no misconception as to who approached. Her ears did not misinterpret an unfamiliar _click-click_ that drew nearer with every step, though her eyes denied her in the obscurity of darkness, where the lantern's glow could not extend.

But they were eventually proven, as the lord of Gongmen City, and all of China, emerged from the darkness. And she could do nothing but wait, as Shen approached the glen where she sat.


End file.
